Should I be worried that soon Iâ€™ll be a virtual reality, embedded in four numbers you never forget? Replaced by a flexible enemy who can replace me in a single, contactless moment?
Oh, for the old days when we had evocative, affectionate, even regal names. The farthing and the florin, the sovereign, the half-crown and the thrupenny bit. But I wouldnâ€™t care tuppence to be called a â€śbobâ€ť, and anyone who wants to be a tanner isnâ€™t quite the full shilling. Sorry if that sounds a little rude. But thatâ€™s the thing about cash, we can be so petty sometimes.